Robin Hood In the Style of Starry
by Starry Mourning
Summary: Okay. This is my first story on here and it is my take on the story of Robin Hood. Therefore there will be new characters and a new conecpt of things. Marion finally meets the man she has dreamed of, but is there something dark lurking beneath his persona
1. Chapter 1

Sherwood Forest was beautiful this time of year. The snow had fallen and it lay heavy on the branches of the oaks causing them to sag. Marion walked beneath them gathering twigs for the Yule fires and stamping her feet along to an old folksong to keep warm. As she paused to search for the next twig a robin flew down to the ground and hopped around looking for grubs in the furrows the wild hogs had left behind. Distracted, Marion didn't notice the twig snap behind her. A hand clawed at her shoulder and as she turned around an object whizzed past her ear. A scream froze in her throat as the man behind her fell dead and another man came swinging through the trees. Flakes of snow fluttered from the branches as he leapt from each closely knitted bough. And the air fell silent.

"Sorry Miss." He called with a cheery smile. He was a tall man, with rosy cheeks and shoulder length brown hair, on top of which was a light green hat with a tawny partridge feather poking out of it. He wore the peasant garb, mottled green and brown; his feet were clothed in deerskin boots and across his back stretched a longbow and a quiver. He was easy to see against the white of the snow but Marion had a feeling that in autumn this man would disappear as easily as the early morning dew drops on a sunny lawn.

"Art thou not cold sir?" she inquired, pulling her own fur lined cloak tighter around her slender shoulders. "Thou dost look chilled to the bone, indeed you are making me shiver." And she couldn't help but smile at the stranger whose own expression was both infectious and handsome.

"I am cold Miss but the warmth of your smile is enough to keep out the chill, and the cold keeps me alert to men like those who were pursuing you," said the chap, gesturing to the corpse beside. Marion looked towards the crippled and stiffening body of the expired man and shuddered. She fancied that she recognised his face but couldn't place it. "May I inquire as to why you were being followed by one of Nottingham's henchmen?" called the man seeing the worried look etched upon the young girl's attractive face. And suddenly Marion remembered. She had last seen the man at her uncle's engagement party. He had stood staring and scowling at Marion for most of the evening, she had found it so hard to enjoy herself. But she would be troubled by him no longer.

"I promise you, I have no reason known to me to be followed, well apart from the obvious."

"Which is?"

"Why I am the future duchess of Nottingham sir! Your ignorance shocks me." She may have replied with a harsh tone but the puzzled look upon the stranger's face made her heart melt and she covered a smile with her hand.

"Milady, forgive me, of course you are the beautiful Maid Marion." He said with a bow, and with that he sprang away leaving Marion's question trailing into the empty forest,

"And your name is...?"

* * *

Leonora, Marion's lady in waiting, carefully combed the knots from Marion's hair as they talked about what had conspired that morning. Leonora was a buxom woman who had nursed Marion since she was a baby; in fact she was more of a mother to Marion than the Lady Nottingham.

"You have lovely hair Marion," said Leonora in a thick Scottish accent, stroking the deep brown hair through her fingers. Marion looked up into the mirror and returned the beaming smile. "You shouldn't go after such a stranger,' she continued on the subject they had been discussing since Marion had returned, ruddy faced and excited. 'He could be dangerous, flinging arrows around the place. He shot one of the sheriff's men for the Gods' sake."

"But you didn't see him Leonora!" said Marion standing up and spinning around to face her. "He has the most striking face. I've never felt this way about anyone before." She clasped the hands of the Nurse and pulled her around the room. Leonora loved Marion like her own and she laughed with cheer to see her so happy. But the happiness was short-lived.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Haw haw haw," laughed a very tall man illuminated by the flames of a dying fire. "You called The Lady Marion, 'miss'! You are a silly ass." Little John received a withered look from the fetching man to his right.

"I swear I have spent too long in this forest, my manners aren't up to what they should be. I escaped fast enough that's for sure." Robin scraped the piece of wood in his hands and threw the splinters onto the embers of the inferno sending the flames into a battle for the feast.

"Well I say my boy, there would not be a better pairing this side of England," said a robust young monk pulling the hood of his cowl down to his shoulders. "Yes it is very fitting that the King of the Forest should marry into royalty. You are a very handsome man you know. I think she could forgive a slight slip of the tongue." He peeled a layer from an onion and popped it into his mouth causing Little John to grimace. Robin patted his Christian friend on the back in thanks for the compliment but in his mind he knew it was a chance meeting and completely unlikely that they should ever meet again.

He wandered past their camp and past the raucous laughter of his 'band of bandits', deeper into the forest. There, shimmering with glo-worms was his beloved oak. The unfortunate wilderness into which he had been born.

* * *

The most laborious screams emanated throughout the forest, the leaves upon the oak from which the sound came shook in fear.

"We're nearly done now my darling, just one more push for me now," called a steady and assured male voice. With the most backbreaking yell and the strident clap of thunder, a baby boy entered the world, sounding his existence with piercing screams of his own.

"Born under the rolling clouds and the luminosity of the Gods!" said the proud father, holding his son, "this boy shall be strong. We shall call him Robin."

"Famed, Bright and Shining," said the worn out voice of the mother, she stretched out her arms to hold their first born. At first the father held back, he was so protective of his son. He didn't want to give him up. But he had seen a sensation, the strength of this woman had never been truer and so with only a slight regret, he handed his son to his companion.

The mother, brown hair sticky with sweat and similar eyes becoming heavy with tears, looked down upon the scrunched up, red face of her son. She lovingly wrapped him in some swaddling and lay back against the inside of the great tree.

"I love him Pan," she said softly, "I love him so much, and nothing will ever tear us apart, because the bond is too strong already."

The Lord of all the forests stalked out into the sticky heat of the tempestuous night. And with one last look back at his family, he knew everything was as it should be. Robin's mother, Breogh, watched the white hart form of her lover gambol into the dense thickets.

The next few years of bringing a child up alone would be terribly hard for the new mother.


	3. Chapter 3

Marion awoke in the night to the sounds of thin branches rattling against the open shutter of her window. She rose from the bed, pushing back folds of red silk to step onto the cold stone floors of her sleeping chambers. Outside the wind was in turmoil. Marion stepped onto the balcony and into its chilling grip. She watched the stars passing on their celestial journey through the hours of darkness and thought of the stranger who had been disturbing her dream-state. Every time she had fallen asleep, she had dreamed a continuous reverie of the man.

_He was sheltered inside a large oak, and she had wandered into the forest, ethereal in her form and barely touching the leaf-littered Earth with her steps. She had felt it too unkind to waken him so she just looked upon that gentle face and put her arms around his to keep his motionless figure warm. Upon the second dream he had opened the soft hazel brown eyes and regarded Marion with the look of an old love. He lifted a hand to her face and she recoiled at the icy touch of his fingers. The creaking of the twisted oak became the tapping of the boughs upon the shutters and the dream dissolved._

She pondered upon where he would be sheltering tonight out in the cruel breath of winter. Would he really be in the sanctuary of that great tree? Had she actually visited the man so close to freezing to death? Marion closed the shutters along with the thoughts of the stranger and rubbed her arms as she climbed back into her bed and fell into a much stronger sleep.

* * *

Robin awoke from the strangest dreams in his wooden keep. He stretched and felt all the bones in his back fall into line. Trees didn't make the comfiest of beds. He walked back to camp and found Little John, Friar Tuck and three other outlaw's snoring around a pile of charred ash. Robin shook his head when he noticed the fair amount of empty jugs littered around each of them but he didn't begrudge his friends a drink in the midst of the cold winter. They were a worthy bunch even if the law didn't believe so.

He tiptoed around them all and wandered into the meadows surrounding the forest. Luckily there had been no snow fall that night and the sun brightened Robin's spirits. He untied his horse Balius, a piebald gelding, given to him on the eve of his 16th birthday by his mother. Coincidently, that was the last time he had seen her alive. Leading the horse to a nearby lake, he pierced the frozen surface with a flaming arrowhead and watched the ice melt. The horse drank steadily and Robin filled a jug with liquid. Taking this back to camp he promptly splashed some onto each of the drowsy faces of his band. Angry and shocked screams erupted from the men and each took his turn to curse Robin, who just stood looking at the men with his hands on his hips and laughed heartily.

"Come on men! The time is nigh when we have to go on the move. Last night I dreamt of the beautiful Marion, she came to visit me and I'm taking this as a sign from my heart that I've finally found someone to share my life with."

"I don't think you'll both fit in that tree," laughed the loyal Little John.

"Why should we move for such a reason?" said Raven Wormwood, a tall man with black hair like the coal eyes of Black Shuck. He didn't really agree that Robin had been claimed leader of the bandits ever since they had formed. Robin sighed.

"Because we need to stay together, it's safer for all of us this way. We can't just let one person get ambushed, there are far too many people that would like to see that head of yours on a pike Raven."

"Does that include you sir?" spat Raven, "There is rumour of a brigade bringing caskets of gold! Gold Robin! This could be the biggest raid we've pulled in years!"

"Yes and also the most unintelligent raid. If there is that much gold, then don't you think it will be guarded so closely? Do you not think for a minute it could be a trap set by Nottingham?"

"Fine, you can go and chase some dame, and I, and anyone who will stay, will go and take this gold and give it to the just and needy. Whose escapade sounds the more selfish?" Raven had stepped into the middle of the camp now, "Whose adventure seems the more exciting and the more rewarding for all? I say now, all those that will follow me to riches, do so now!" Quite a cheer went up from the crowd of thieves and Robin shook his head.

"I cannot stay you Raven, I have other matters, I am sorry if this is a trap and I am also sorry if this tale is true and you indeed manage to capture such quantities of treasure. But I take my leave now." Little John, Friar Tuck, William Scarlet and Robin all mounted their horses and rode through to the forest edge, leaving a scowling bitter being behind.


	4. Chapter 4

At the Duke of Nottingham's palace, preparations were taking place for the forthcoming Yuletide celebrations. Mistletoe was hung in every doorway inviting young couples to linger underneath, a great Yule log had been acquired from the royal forests, once the trunk of a fir, and it now lay in restful wait for its celebratory cremation. Candle's surrounded the feasting hall, Black, gold and red ribbons hung intertwined with the house colours. In the kitchens a great hogs head was being seared of its hair, partridges were stuffed inside geese which were then stuffed into swans or peacocks and grand amounts of biting alcohol was mixed with dried fruits to make puddings. The cook dropped in a magickal charm made of silver and at the same time somebody stuck their finger into the mix.

"Hoi!" shouted the cook wielding the ladle, and upon sighting a grinning Marion she gently lowered it and said, "Beg pardon Milady." Marion congratulated the woman on such a powerful concoction.

"You shouldn't be down here Milady, your Lordship wouldn't approve." Said the cook through gritted teeth, she knew exactly who would be punished if Maid Marion was caught talking to the lesser members of the staff.

"But I'm thoroughly bored," said Marion twirling a tasting fork through her fingers like a baton. "I wanted to help with the decorating but they wouldn't have me there either. It'd be nice to get out once in a while without everyone knowing my every move." Marion knew exactly where she'd go, straight back to the wood. But if she were ever to actually try it and be found with the stranger, life wouldn't be worth living.

"Well go and ask your Lady if she'll teach you some cross-stitch or something, that will take your mind from it, but you can't stay in the kitchen, out out out!"

Marion wandered out from the warmth of the kitchen and into the outside followed closely by a great blast of steam from the meals simmering on the hobs. Far in the distance chickens were clucking, horses grazing and there was the faint clinking of shovels against the hard stone floor to be heard. Everything was as dull and as normal as the sky and time slowed even further. Marion decided to head over to the stables to see if she could be of any assistance there. She needed to pass the time until the celebrations began.

Outside the stables, Peter the ostler was brushing the thick winter hair of a white mare and cooing to her softly. "Hello kind sir," said Marion sidling up to the man. He brushed a long strand of brown hair away from his eyes and smiled at the pretty maiden.

"Helloa sweet Maid and how are you?"

"Bored," said Marion stroking the forelock of the mare. "Is she taking part in the celebrations?"

"Yep, this is Morgana Le Fay; she'll be pulling the sleigh with your uncle in. They're having music and jesters too you know. Would you like to help me dress her up?" Marion was thankful for the work and Peter was especially thankful for the time with Marion. He didn't worry about the consequences of being caught with her. They plaited Morgana's mane and tail with black, red and gold ribbons, threaded white lilies into the horse's hair and applied hoof oil. Next they attached a bridle of glittering silver bells consecutively spaced between dangling black tassels.

"She'll be the belle of the ball now," said Marion lovingly.

"Pardon me for speaking out of turn, but I wish I was taking you to the feast Marion," said Peter shyly and handing her a left-over lily. The girl blushed and thanked the handsome groom with a touch to his face. If she hadn't been so enthralled by the other man and had Peter been nobly born, she would have defiantly let him take her. She would just have to make do with the Baron of Yorkshire instead. At least he was so blind he probably wouldn't notice if she slipped away.

* * *

Three hours later, when the sky had turned to the colour of ink, the stars had come out to witness the event and the moon was surrounded by her frosted rings, the celebration began. Two thirds of the Noble elite of the North had turned up for it, the Duke of Nottingham being a very renowned figure of party-throwing, and they were now waiting in the courtyard for the most special guest of all, the King of England. King Richard. The jingling of sleigh bells sounded his arrival and a great applauding started up. Marion watched the mare she and Peter had transformed that afternoon trot up to the courtyard, silver bells flailing and pulling a magnificent gilt coach.

The King stepped out first, his crown shone on top of a head of golden curls and he lent his royal hand to his wife as she emerged glittering from the carriage. She was a beautiful lady, with hair as golden as her husbands and she wore a long elegant white ermine coat. Marion gasped and went forth with her father and mother to bow before her uncle.

"My Lord," said her father, kissing the King's hand. "Welcome to our home." Lady Nottingham curtsied and Marion did the same. King Richard just nodded and was led indoors to the feasting room.

Music was played in the galleries by a troop of trained musicians and minstrels. Candle's glimmered around and on the table, illuminating the many great platters laid out before the guests. Marion was seated next to her blind, bachelor escort much to her dismay, he wasn't a lot of fun to talk to, and even worse, just opposite was the Sheriff of Nottingham grimacing over his food and being closely guarded by two henchmen. Once again it was extremely difficult for Marion to enjoy the party with him glaring at her. She knew the look in his eyes and what he was after.

Following 7 courses and a lot of drinking, the Duke of Nottingham stood up and bowed to the King once more, "Now, for my honours pleasure, I present the Royal trio of Illusionists." There was a polite round of clapping but nobody had really heard of such a group before. Marion leaned around in her chairs searching keenly for who the mysterious band could be. Suddenly there came a large bang and a billow of smoke flew from the rafters. Everybody looked up to see three masked figures hanging suspended in the air. The shortest of the trio began to sing along with the lute playing of the musicians while the other two twirled on their ribbons, landed on the floor and began to juggle candles, swallow swords and play tricks upon the guests. The men picked their way among the plates on the table and blew dust into the faces of the Ladies and Lords who were so merry with drink that they didn't notice just what was hidden up their sleeves. Even Marion was so transfixed as one of the men came up to her and smiled, that she didn't notice his hand slip into the cravat of her escort and take the solid gold chains from around his neck. Towards the end, the trio ascended their coloured ribbons from the rooftop and disappeared. Everybody applauded again, this time more furiously and praised the Duke for such a wonderful choice in performers. Marion overheard the King say that 'Not in many years had he been enthralled by such wonderment'.

When the time came for the dancing at the final stage of the party, Marion quietly slipped away from the sleeping Baron and made her way through the castle to her bedroom. It had been a lovely Yuletide celebration but she didn't feel like dancing and she was afraid that the Sheriff of Nottingham would ask her, an offer she wasn't allowed to refuse. Lying on her bed, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was free to just relax and imagine how it might have been had the beautiful stranger turned up at the party to see her. He might have ridden up on a white steed himself and carried her off to save her from the Sheriff or the Baron or any other would-be suitors. She was just beginning to unwind in the dark when she heard the latch on her door click. Whoever had just entered crept silently over to the bed. She felt very afraid.


End file.
